Shattered
by Petals Open to the Moon
Summary: I felt her tiny hand reach for mine. "You will never leave me, will you, Aro?" she whispered. "Never, sweetheart." It was inevitable. She would go wherever I would go...take whatever path I chose to take. She was my life. Forever.
1. Chapter 1

**_This is a story that will probably break your heart, but it desperately needs to be told. I'll do my best, and I depend on you reviewers to let me know how I'm doing. :) Rated M, just in case. _**

_Not flesh of my flesh  
Nor bone of my bone  
But still miraculously my own  
Never forget for a single minute  
You didn't grow under my heart  
But in it_

_(Anonymous) _

I had never seen an angel before. Few people ever have. And yet, as I bent over the cradle—my fingers gripping the smooth wood—I knew instinctively that the being within was no ordinary child. Her soulful eyes looked up at me like windows of light, and I leaned closer. Her tiny hand reached up, and pulled at my long, dark hair. She giggled.

"Well, my son," my father said, coming to stand behind me. "What do you think of your new sister?"

The angel smiled up at me. "She's…beautiful," I whispered. She laughed again, and the golden down around her head danced in the sunlight. I looked up at my mother. "Can I…can I hold her?"

"Of course, sweetheart," she said softly. My father reached for her, grasping her weak hand in his own strong one. They both watched as I carefully lifted my sister out of the cradle. She felt light as a feather in my arms, and I marveled at her complete vulnerability. Was this how parents felt, when they held their child for the first time?

A soft touch broke my thoughts, and I looked down to see her finger brush across my cheek. My heart thudded in my chest. Her touch inspired the sweetest joy I had ever felt in my life. It was indescribable.

The tears running down my mother's face told me that she had felt the same. "Bring her over here, Aro," she whispered. I set the little bundle in my mother's arms, and we gathered around closely.

"What is her name?" my Father asked.

My mother opened her tired eyes slowly. They were dark and sensual, characteristic of Greek women, as was the mass of black hair that curled about her face. She looked at each of us in turn, and a light entered her eyes. "Didyme," she said softly. "Didyme Andria." She drew me towards her, and brought our faces closely together. "'Twins.' Always together." She released me, and hugged my sister gently to her breast. "Andria for 'love.' Happiness. _Il mio tesoro…" _

My father laughed, teasing my mother for her sentimentality. "She will never be able to pronounce it," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. "But I am happy for you, love."

I watched them, smiling, but my eyes were fixed on the little being in my mother's arms.

"_Didyme Andria."_ It was perfect. My mother's exotic background combined with my father's Italian lineage. It was a name filled with meaning and beauty for all of us. An angel entered our house that day. An angel who brought heaven to all who touched her.

_**Seven years later… **_

I stumbled through the door, tossing my winter cloak onto the kitchen table. I could see my mother through the door, stirring something over the fire. I would have to be quiet if I was going to sneak past her and escape to my room. I stepped forward carefully, and then winced as the floorboards squealed loudly.

"Who's there?" my mother called. "Lucius, is that you?"

She opened the door, expecting my father. Her eyes fell on me, skittering under the table. 'Aro!"

"Mm?"

"Stand up, for goodness sake. What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, but my mother wasn't stupid. She jerked my chin up with her thumb, and looked at me thoroughly—bleeding lip, bruised and scratched forehead.

"Oh, Aro," she sighed. "Not again."

"It doesn't even hurt," I muttered, turning away, but she dragged me over to a chair and sat me down. She wet a rag in a basin of cool water, and knelt at my feet, patiently applying it to my face. "Who was it this time?" she asked softly.

"Giulio."

My lip stung as she applied some sort of herbal mixture to it. "Was he making fun of you?"

I glared up at her. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me, my son."

"I won't repeat it. I punched him in the face, and then all three of them were on top of me. It wasn't a fair fight, but I don't care." I drew myself up proudly. "They're all worthless."

"Aro!" My mother stared at me, shocked. "They're just children, like you! Don't place blame where it doesn't belong. I'm sure if you ask them to stop, they will."

I smiled bitterly. "I tried that, Mother. It's useless."

"Oh, come now! You're almost sixteen. You must forgive and forget."

I wasn't listening to her. I was picturing my fingers wrapping around Giulio's throat, and his smug face turning blue. I closed my eyes. God, I hated him. I hated them all.

I heard my mother laughing, and something crashed suddenly into my chest. I staggered backwards into the table, but my face was being covered with soft, wet kisses.

"Didyme!" I gasped, prying her arms off of me. _"Distenda!_ Calm down!"

She obeyed me for once, hiding her hands behind her back. "I'll be good," she sang sweetly.

My mother brushed a hand across her curly head, then took the water and herbs back into the kitchen, smiling to herself.

I lifted my sister into my lap. "And what have you been doing, _bambino?"_ I asked.

"Picking flowers for you." She lifted a bunch of sweet-smelling jasmine in her fist, and I took them from her, tucking them in my pocket.

"No…" She pulled them out again, and started entwining the blossoms in my hair. I wore my hair long, partly because my mother liked it, but mostly because it defied the stupid fashions Giulio and his cohorts wore. Theirs was cropped short, almost shaggy, with heavy bangs in front.

Didyme giggled at me. "You look beautiful, Awo!"

I kissed her on the nose. "Not half as beautiful as you, _piccola." _

She nuzzled against my chest, asking me to sing to her. I did, but softly, so my mother couldn't hear…

"_Fa la ninna bel bambin _

_Fa la nanna bambin bel _

_Fa la ninna, fa la nanna _

_Nella braccia della mamma." _

It was Didyme's favorite lullaby, and usually one that my mother would sing to her. Ever since she had been born, Mother had coveted Didyme like she was the only child in the world. I had stood aside and watched as she pushed me out of her life, leaving me barely enough room to move, to breathe…to _live._ It was no wonder I spent much of my time alone, far from the other children she forced me to associate with. Her brief kindness as she healed my wounds had faded the moment Didyme entered, and I was pushed back in the darkness once more.

But did I resent my sister? No. Never. It would be like resenting an angel—like tearing off its wings and watching it struggle weakly. No. Didyme loved me, and I sucked the love from her, eager to taste it as a starving body for water. She was my everything.

The door slammed, and my father entered the house. I shoved Didyme away from me, tearing the bits of jasmine and pollen from my hair. I snatched a roll from behind my mother's back, and ran up to my room to be alone once more. Father called after me, but I made no reply. He was a harsh man, domineering to the point of rage on my part, and exasperation on his. We fought like cats and dogs on a daily basis, with my mother supporting him on everything.

I flung myself backwards on my bed. I needed to get away, I realized. If I didn't do something soon, I was going to go insane. I knew my own worth was far greater than the meager peasants of the village—the groveling selfishness of my parents and other relations; the filthiness in which they chose to live. Didyme and I were more than that. Had my father's grandfather not been a leader in his own right? Burning down villages to settle his own people where they needed to be? Sacrificing innocents to achieve his desires?

I lay very still, listening to the beating of my heart. My face felt flushed and excited as I considered our—Didyme's and mine—possible future. There had to be more than this…this _insignificance. _I touched the healing cut on my lip.

"One day, Mother and Father," I whispered. "One day…"


	2. Chapter 2

_**Aro **_

"Well, if it isn't His Highness," sneered a voice from behind me. "Or should I say, 'Your _Majesty?'"_

Giulio and his friends snickered, standing over me. I was laying flat on my stomach, watching a green-backed lizard slither in and out of a rock crevice. I rose to my feet.

Giulio laughed. "I think I liked you better in that position. You would have been a nice target for our rock-throwing contests."

"'Rock-throwing?'" I said lightly. "Isn't that what your brain resembles, Giulio? A thick, shapeless mass?"

"Shut up," he snapped. "Just because your father's in the merchant trade doesn't mean you can lord over the rest of us like you do. If he were here right now, I'd spit in his face."

An ordinary boy would have stood up straight and tall, red with pride, and challenged Giulio to repeat his treacherous words. Fight for the family honor. I laughed to myself. How ironic.

"Are you _laughing_ at me?" Giulio demanded. His brawny face shoved closer towards me, and I could see his cracked, ill-kept teeth. How did these...peasants…_live_ with themselves?

"Yes," I whispered. "What are you going to do about it?"

My words were well-chosen, but had the exact reaction I feared. The rough, Italian boy signaled to his friends, and within seconds they were all repeating the same pattern that had sent me home, staggering, the previous day. I let them.

"Good day, _Your Majesty,"_ they laughed, running off in a cloud of dust. I picked myself up slowly, wiping blood and mud off of my sleeves. I felt my lip with careful fingers; it had split open again, and had stained my chin and the front of my shirt. My left eye felt tender, too, and stung whenever I touched it.

I spent the rest of the day alone, wandering down paths outside the village that I knew my tormentors would never frequent. They were bullies, but meeting with superstition, their courage barely extended past a young child's.

The path I followed was deserted for a reason, and not just because wild animals were known to have attacked villagers along the way. The _Strada sola _had been abandoned decades before, when Greek invaders had slaughtered hundreds of innocents, and strewn them irreverently across the path. My people, commonly known as the _Tyrsenoi,_ were too afraid to return until the danger had passed and treaties were eventually made between our conflicting nations. The skeletons had been left to rot, and their pitiful remains disappeared, which accounted for the rich, dark color of the soil I now walked on.

I stood there, the wind blowing my hair about my face, and felt strangely exhilarated, as if the ghosts of the past were standing beside me and giving me comfort. _The dead never lie, _I thought silently. I looked up at the reddening sunset and was about to leave, when something dark caught my eye.

There was a man standing in the road behind me.

I looked around, but we were entirely alone. Naturally. _No one_ came to _Strada sola. _

"_Chi sono va?" _I called tentatively. "Who are you?"

The figure said nothing, but I saw his hand reach out, and beckon for me to follow him.

Being young and foolish, I did so, not wanting to be thought a coward. I noticed he made no sound when he walked, while my own footsteps crunched loudly on the pebbles and gravel beneath my feet. When we reached the end of the deserted road, he stopped. A quiet, cultivated voice reached my ears. "What is your name, boy?" he asked clearly.

"Aro."

"Son of _Signor_ Rossi, the merchant?"

"Yes," I said surprised.

"Those boys who were bullying you—they are not your friends?"

"Hardly," I scoffed.

"I understand how you feel," the voice continued soothingly. "Worthless, little creatures, aren't they? And so much beneath you. You deserve far more, my young _signor." _

I gasped, moving to stand a little closer to the stranger. "But…that's exactly how I feel! How do you know all this?"

"I've been watching you, Aro. I can see that pure blood runs in your veins."

The man's voice flowed off his tongue like honey, and I shuddered to hear it. "Please…" I whispered. "Please tell me who you are."

"Patience, young one. That will come. I have followed you here to ask if you would allow me to help you achieve the recognition and greatness that you so desire."

I stammered, trying to speak, but he interrupted. "You are surprised by my knowledge, no? I learn quickly. You are repulsed by the meagerness of the village; dissatisfied with your life at home, where you are not accepted. You need a new life, a new beginning, and I am here to offer it to you." There was a brief pause, then, "Do you accept?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The sharp winter breeze nipped at my skin, proving I was in no dream, and I stared at the tall stranger in front of me. A "yes" rushed eagerly to my lips, but I stopped myself just in time. "First," I demanded boldly. "Tell me who you are."

A soft chuckle echoed in the evening air. "A mind of your own, I see," the man said, amused. "But it is a decent request."

I watched as his hands came out of his cloak, long and strikingly slender for a male's hands. They curled under his hood. Slowly, the black material fell away, and I had my first, full glimpse of his face.

"I am Stefan," he said, bowing politely. "Your new teacher."

Over the days that followed, I would become used to many things: Stefan's odd habits, the clear, articulate accent that resembled nothing like I'd ever heard…even his aversion to the scorching sunlight of our country. But nothing prepared me at that moment for what I saw beneath his hood. A face of sculpted bone leered out at me, with frightening black eyes that stared coldly from shadowy sockets. It could be called a handsome face, I suppose, and was one you couldn't easily forget. His hair was very long, brown, and straight, and he wore it raggedly, as if he could care less how it looked. Soft red lips completed the elegance of his gentle smile, and he tilted his head, amused, as I stared at him in shock.

"You are tired, I presume," he said finally. "Perhaps your family will be worried about you?"

I barely heard him. Had he really just stepped out of a dream? Was he really going to teach me…teach me things I'd always wanted to know? Increase the limits of my weak understanding?

"No, wait," I begged. "Are you…are you going to come with me?"

Stefan smiled. "I don't go into the village, as a rule."

Disappointment clouded my face, and Stefan laid a cold hand on my shoulder. "You will find me here—same place, same time—every evening," he said. "Be sure you are not followed."

I nodded gratefully. "And if I'm detained?"

Stefan lifted his hood back over his face. "Then _I _will find _you._"

I blinked once, and he was gone, lost somewhere in the darkness that was swiftly gathering around me. The sun had set long ago, and I shivered on my way back up the lonely road.

_**Stefan **_

Stefan stood alone in the shadows, watching the boy leave. He couldn't help smiling to himself.

"Perfect," he whispered. "Absolutely perfect."

In all his years, he had never remotely believed this could happen. He had _hoped,_ of course, but what good was that hope when every being in every village was nothing but a dirty, detestable peasant? This youth was truly a jewel in a field of dust and stone, and Stefan intended to take full advantage of the opportunity. There was much to be learned, he knew, but oh…how great was the potential!

He remembered when he'd first seen the boy. He had been stopping through the _Tyrsenoi's _village, searching for a fresh meal, when he'd seen a group of children punching and kicking at something repeatedly. After several minutes, the dust cleared, and the little brats had fled amidst shouts of laughter. The scent of blood had filled Stefan's nostrils, and he'd watched as a boy rose from the ground slowly, red liquid pouring from his nose and several cuts on his arms. He didn't cry. Didn't scream. He just stood there, looking off in the direction the children had disappeared.

A stray dog had wandered towards the boy, whining for food. The boy surprised Stefan by lashing out suddenly, kicking the animal viciously in the ribs. He then stalked off in the opposite direction, never saying a word or showing any other sign of weakness.

That was seven years ago, and Stefan had been watching him ever since. The new arrival in Lucius Rossi's household; Aro's devotion to her because he couldn't get affection anywhere else; the sullenness with which he took beatings, and the surprising intelligence for his age.

"Yes," Stefan murmured into the clear night. "This is what I have waited for…"

* * *

_**Thank you, to all the people who have reviewed so far. I really do appreciate it. I received one, however, that was a little more insightful than most. One of my readers noted the fact that "floorboards and beds" didn't exist in 1016 B.C. Understand, readers, that this story has been difficult due to the centuries and centuries that Aro has lived. I have however, researched a little more around this time period, and hopefully we won't be seeing anymore of those mistakes.**_

_**Remember! Just let me know if something needs fixing! I'm doing my best with the scant history we know of these people. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

_**Aro **_

I didn't meet with Stefan once, but many times. His wisdom and experience greatly impressed my young mind, and I drank in everything he said eagerly. He told me that of all the countries he'd visited—of all the villages he'd come across—I was the only one who had caught his eye.

"The world is changing drastically, Aro," he told me once. "If you don't listen to me and change _with_ it, your civilization will become nothing. Your histories will be destroyed. We must become knowledgeable of _other_ nations as well, for that is where true power lies. _Knowing_ your enemy. Stealing his history and molding it into your own. Only then, will you never be forgotten. Only then, will you truly become immortal."

"How does one become immortal?" I asked pleadingly.

He only looked at me with those wise, dark eyes of his, and swiftly changed the subject to Eastern civilizations and their culture. I naturally questioned his evasiveness, but after months had passed, I understood that everything he told me had a purpose, and if I wasn't ready to know something—well, then he must know best. But it was very difficult. When he spoke of the dreaded plague or death, it was with as much indifference as he showed towards the food I ate or the air I breathed. Nothing seemed to frighten him. To me, he _was_ invincible, and I respected and admired him even more than my own father.

One evening, Stefan had been teaching me a method of disarming your enemy through subtle manipulation of the mind. I found the subject utterly fascinating, and it was only when the darkness thickened around me that I realized it was way past the time I should be home.

"I need to go," I said quickly, rising to my feet.

"Very well. _Buona notte_."

"_Buona notte."_ I tightened my cloak around me, and set off back down the _Strada sola. _

"One moment, Aro," Stefan called from behind me.

I turned. "Yes?"

"Your sister…what was her name again?"

"Didyme."

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Didyme. You care very much about her, no?"

My face reddened, and I looked away from him. Was he trying to pinpoint a weakness? "Yes."

"And you have told her nothing of our meetings here?"

"I have told no one, Stefan. Besides," I laughed. "She's only six."

Stefan did not smile. "It doesn't matter. A child's idle chatter can undo everything. I cannot afford discovery, Aro. Not when we're so close…" His face had changed into an expression I'd never seen before. It was…hard. Ruthless and cold. "You must _swear_ you'll tell no one."

"I swear," I whispered.

Stefan's face transformed to one of kindness, and he smiled at me. "Good night, then, Aro."

His form vanished, and I walked home in confusion.

When I reached our home and stepped through the door, Father was waiting for me.

"Where have you been/" he demanded.

"Walking," I said calmly. "Is it a sin to _walk, _Father?"

"_Stai zitto!_ You can't fool me, Aro. Your mother and I aren't as thick as you think. We've been watching you for several weeks now—always leaving around dusk, and coming back an hour later. You don't listen to us when we talk to you; you hardly even notice the food you eat! What is the _matter _with you?"

His face was flushed red with anger, but I tried to remain calm. "Since when have my personal habits been under your inspection, Father?"

"Listen to him!" my father laughed, speaking to the empty air. "He speaks as if he were a king, and master of his own house!" He leaned across the table towards me. "I have had enough of your insolence, boy," he said in a low tone. "It's about time you started making yourself useful, and applied yourself to the merchant trade. Do you think I built this house and started a family by sitting around lazily day after day? Do you think…"

"_Sei finito?" _I interrupted, my patience almost gone. "Are you finished?"

My father's jaw tightened at my rudeness. We stared at each other in the dim candlelight, until he broke the silence. "It's late," he said harshly. "Go to your room."

I was all too happy to obey. The wooden ladder that was the only entryway to the second floor creaked under my impatient hands, and I rushed into my room. I was alone at last. I hung my winter cloak carefully on a jutting piece of wood in the wall. I smiled as I looked out the window. Nighttime was fast becoming my favorite time of day.

"The world sleeps, but we are alive," Stefan had told me, a strange light in his eyes. "Only during the darkest hours are great things accomplished."

_I must ask him if he plans to take me from this place..._ I thought absently.

A hand reached from the darkness, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling on it repeatedly. I twisted backwards, trying to see my attacker, but they only pulled harder. I cursed.

"You're _late!" _hissed a voice by my ear.

"Let me go!" I hissed back.

My hair was released, and I whirled around, pinning my little sister to the bed. _"Why are you still awake?" _I demanded, pretending to be harsh.

Her doll-face looked up at me innocently. "Mamma said you weren't coming home, but I didn't believe her. So I snuck away when she fell asleep, like this…" She crawled around on her hands and knees, showing me. "And I climbed up the ladder and hid in the corner, waiting for you." She giggled. "And you came! I knew you would!"

I collapsed against the wall, rolling my eyes. "So you thought you'd scare me half to death, Didyme? Well, the fun is over. Get out of here."

"No!" She sprang into my lap and folded her arms petulantly.

I brushed away the mass of golden fluff tickling my face. "I'm serious!"

"Awo's gwumpy! Awo's gwumpy!" she trilled.

A laugh broke from my lips, and I grabbed her around the waist. She screamed with delight, struggling to get free. Her little fists pummeled my shoulder and I reached my arm backwards. She let go, squealing when I tickled her feet, and we wrestled together on the dirty wood. Finally, our breath ran out. I mussed her long hair, panting.

"Don't you _ever _leave me alone?" I teased.

"Never!" She jumped into my arms again, and I held her tightly. An image of Father rose before my eyes. I gritted my teeth in anger. No one understood me. No one but _her._

"I love you, sis," I whispered, too softly for her to hear.

"Awo?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you always go out alone evwyday?"

"Just to have time to myself."

"How much time?"

I looked at the dying candle near the door. "As long as it takes." The redness of the flame glowered against the blackness, as if defying its approaching death.

"I need to get away," I said, partly to myself. "I can't stay here any longer."

I felt Didyme's hand worm its way into my own.

"You'll stay if _I_ need you," she whispered.

I looked down at my sister with surprise. Her little head rested against my arm trustingly, and her beautiful eyes glowed in the dimming light. I had always been amazed at her compassion; her sweet gift of insightfulness. She always understood me. Heaven forbid, I was almost ten years older than her, and she was only six. But we were bonded in a way no one could comprehend. Not Father, not Stefan. Not even Mother.

I realized then, as we sat together in the dusky twilight, that I could never leave her. She would go with me wherever I would go, and follow whatever path I chose to take.

It was inevitable. She was my life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

"You're not concentrating, Aro."

"I'm trying!"

"No, you're not. You're not even listening to me."

I stood up impatiently. "And why? Because I'm _sick_ of all this!" I snapped. "For months now, you've been telling me about all these distant places—places that are developing even as we speak. But have I seen any of them? No! I thought you were going to _help_ me, but you're just making it worse."

I walked away from Stefan, stopping just where the road ended. _What a waste. I'll be here forever, hating my life… knowing what I've missed. _

"You are angry with me," he said gently. His hand touched my shoulder.

I looked up at his face, glowing like white stone in the dusk, and looked away.

"Why do you lack patience?" he continued. "Do you not trust me?"

"I trust you, Stefan. I just don't understand."

He said nothing.

"I'm _ready!" _I said, pleading with him.

Stefan's eyes closed, and a breeze rippled his cloak slightly. "Is he?" he whispered, almost to himself. The moments passed, and I crossed my fingers. Stefan opened his dark eyes, looking at me decisively. "We will leave a week from now. Be prepared by that time."

I gasped, seizing his cold fingers in gratitude, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. I turned in the direction he stared just in time to see a figure dart away. He was short and skinny, with dark hair. I couldn't see who it was in the darkness.

"You told me you wouldn't be followed." Stefan's voice was cold.

"I wasn't! I've been so careful…"

The wind whistled past me, and I realized he was no longer beside me.

"Stefan?"

A stifled cry reached my ears. I saw him walked towards me a hundred yards away, dragging the boy with him. As they came closer, I recognized the terrified face. It was Rafael, one of my tormentor's, and Giulio's closest friend.

"We seem to have a spy on our hands," Stefan said calmly. "A friend of yours, Aro?"

"No."

"What shall we do with him?"

"I don't know."

Stefan gestured impatiently. "Does he serve any purpose at all?"

I couldn't look at him. "I…I don't know."

"The answer is _NO!" _Stefan snarled, his fingers tightening on the boy's throat. "Have I taught you _nothing?"_

Rafael screamed. Stefan clamped his pale fingers over his face, forcing his mouth shut. "You have a lot to learn, my young learner," he whispered. "If the weak are not winnowed out…" His grip tightened, and Rafael's eyes rolled back in his head. "…then you have _lost_."

Rafael shuddered. There was an odd, snapping sound, and Stefan tossed him aside with contempt.

My blood turned to ice. "What have you done?" I gasped.

Stefan smiled. "Don't ask me _what _I've done," he said calmly. "But _why _I did it." His eyes hardened to stone. "I have given you another lesson, Aro. Take care you remember it well."

I looked at the ground in horror. A struggle was tearing inside of me; a struggle between all I knew to be right, and my own instincts. Rafael had been spying on us—he would've told someone, and there would have been the devil to pay. _Where is your strength?_ I argued with myself. Stefan had done what he did to protect us and our secret…no other reason. From what he said of power, I had to believe him. It had been a necessary evil. _That is where true power lies. _

I straightened up, not wanting to appear weak. "I understand."

Stefan nodded. "Good." He knelt down by the body, his cloak draping on the ground in dark folds, and I thought I saw him lift his hand to his face for a moment. When he stood up, his eyes were brighter than before, but no other change was visible. "Are you still afraid?" he taunted. He seemed to enjoy my horror.

"No," I whispered.

He laughed. "We will get along well, you and I."

A sickly-sweet smell permeated the air, and I felt dizzy. "Yes…"

It was pitch-black by now. Stefan gathered his cloak about him and began to walk away.

"Wait!" I called, stumbling after him. "What should I do with…" I stopped.

He didn't turn around. "Leave it. Haven't you said no one ever comes here?"

A twinge of shame pricked me for a moment. I had gathered from Stefan's lessons that we weren't the most advanced civilization in the world, but we at least _buried_ our dead. It felt wrong to leave the boy there; food for the vultures and wild animals that roamed the wilderness.

"Stefan!" I called, tearing myself away. "Our plan is still set, right? One week?"

"Provided you keep your discretion, young Aro."

I rushed home, stopping by the well as I did so. The dirt came off my hands easily, muddying the surface until I stirred it up with my hand. The house was silent. I entered through the kitchen, sneaking up the ladder as quietly as I could. I would not sleep that night—I kept hearing Rafael scream. But eventually my horror was replaced by excited anticipation. I stifled a laugh of triumph. "_A week from now,"_ he had promised. My heart pounded with excitement.

Stefan was wrong, though. I wouldn't have to wait _that_ long.

* * *

It was afternoon in the village, and temperatures were sky-high. I left the house regardless, following my usual routine. The sickening dread of the previous night had faded in my memory like a bad dream. I even wondered occasionally if it had even _happened. _But whenever I thought of going further down the road to where Stefan and I had stood, my heart quavered and I stayed where I was. The heat was growing unbearable, and I was beginning to regret not staying in the house. Didyme had brought more flowers up to my room, stuffing them under my pillow. I'd woken with pollen in my ear and her sticky lips on my cheek.

"You stayed out late again," she'd said reproachfully. "Mama was angry."

They had both been angry—her and Father. I'd managed to escape from the worst of their rebukes before Father became more involved, but it had only cut down on my time with my sister. _They'll love that, _I thought bitterly. I felt like my little angel was being stolen away from me the older I grew. Not only by my parents, but—and I hated to admit it—by Stefan, as well. Hadn't he warned me many times against emotional attachments? Hadn't I seen his face tighten with disapproval every time I spoke of her? Hadn't he—

I looked up, trying to distract myself. There were several odd, black shapes in the distance, hovering over the ridge where Rafael's body had been thrown. They didn't look human. Brushing the dust off my clothes, I ran as fast as I could until I arrived at the site. What I saw twisted my stomach. Half a dozen crows and another variety of bird dug their claws into the soft flesh, licking their beaks in anticipation of a meal. I leveled a kick at one of them, and threw stones until every last one of the cursed animals had vanished. I looked down—the swollen tongue filling the mouth, the protruding, staring eyes—and my whole body retched violently.

"_Why?"_ I screamed to the empty air. I could feel moisture on my face, and it wasn't sweat from the heat. I felt so weak. I could literally see Stefan in front of me, laughing until his proud head tilted back over his shoulders. And yet…what if it had been Didyme? Lying there with her curls matted and bloody? My stomach wrenched painfully again. _Oh, God, not her, _I pleaded silently. _Anyone but her…_ Angels were not meant to suffer pain.

Then my thoughts suddenly changed. Giulio had beaten me. Rafael had beaten me. What was stopping them from injuring Didyme in the future? I looked at the corpse with a fresh sneer on my lips, and only regretted not killing him myself. A savage fire burned inside of me. Oh, he can lie there, I thought viciously. They can all lie there, rotting, and I'll _laugh. _

I did laugh. I rose to my feet and laughed so hard I startled a bird fluttering nearby.

"Come to survey your work?"

I stopped laughing. I turned around to face Giulio. "What do you want?"

He struck me. "You shut your mouth," he snapped.

"If you hit me _one _more time," I snarled. "I swear—"

"You'll what? Kill me, too? Throw my body alongside Rafael's?"

I was shocked to hear his voice shake slightly. His face was red with anger. He had obviously cared about his friend, no matter what kind of violence he inflicted on others.

"Place blame where it's due, Giulio," I retorted. I had grown _up_ under that violence.

"_You _were there! You and…"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I _know_ what I saw!" he said, shaking. "Rafael was murdered, and you just _stood there. _You'll pay for this…you and your whole cursed family."

I laughed. "You know, I think I'd _prefer_ you dead, actually."

Giulio's breath hissed in his throat. He lifted a hand to strike me, then abruptly changed his mind, running back into the village.

My smile disappeared the moment he was gone. This was serious. What was I going to do? There was only one punishment for a murderer, and that was death. Two years after Didyme was born, a man had stabbed his wife in a fit of anger. The next day, they dragged him out to the village square. His hands and feet were cut off, salt was sprinkled in the wounds, and the other peasants stoned him to death. I remembered watching from behind a hut, strangely fascinated by the horrific picture. Now, nothing but fear filled my breast. Where was it now, that strange fire that had filled me only moments before?

"Stefan…" I whispered. "Stefan, what do I do?"

I saw him in my mind's-eye, his handsome face calm. _Whatever it takes to stay alive. _

A sound distracted me, and I looked down the _Strada Sola. _Giulio had returned with Rafael's father, who looked at me with daggers in his eyes. Behind them were half the men of the village. They stopped in front of me and Rafael's body, saying nothing. Giulio glared malevolently at me, gesturing, but I didn't hear a word he said. I was watching the men behind him, and the way they were staring at me. Some of them held their fingers crossed in a sign I knew only too well. Others simply watched me with hatred in their eyes. Hatred…and fear.

_They're afraid, _I realized. _They're afraid of me. _

The hot sun glowered down on us, causing sweat to drip down my neck, and the silence dragged on.

What had Giulio told them?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

When my father opened the door and saw us all standing there, a variety of emotions flickered across his face. First came shock, then anger, and then finally a scowl of distrust. There was no worry for his son in his eyes. To look for it would have been useless. After all, what had I ever done to please him?

I smiled bitterly at the irony. Where most children would have had a family behind them for protection, I had nothing. Nothing except the hatred of my father and the disgust of my mother. I had Stefan, of course, but who would he be to these peasants? The murderer. The perpetrator.

"What's going on?" my father demanded. "Aro, what have you done now?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Giulio slapped me smartly across the face. "You keep quiet, demon!" he hissed.

My father stared at me. "What is this, Giulio?"

For answer, the crowd of men parted, and Rafael's father came forward, setting the rotting body at my feet. My father looked at it in astonishment, then back at me. Giulio began to tell everyone what he had seen last night, how I had been consorting with a dark figure, and how we had murdered Rafael, drinking his blood. I had spoken with the devil, he said, and was now one of his own cursed followers.

I listened as they pointed my fate in the only plausible direction: death. The heat was worse than ever, and I wondered in a daze where that "devil" was.

"Well, Lucius?" the men demanded. Rafael's father hadn't spoken; he stared at me, hatred in his grieved eyes. "What do you have to say?"

"I had no knowledge of this," my father snapped. "Just what do you propose me to do?"

"Burn him," someone said quietly.

I sucked in my breath. Everyone turned to stare at me. I stared back at them, defiant and sullen, but ice was swimming in my veins. Everyone knew witches were burned. Either that or the more brutal methods from our Greek neighbors of flaying the victim. Alive.

I looked back at my father. Indecision battled in his eyes. For a brief moment, I pitied him. He could denounce his son as a spawn of Satan, or he could lose all his property and risk the rest of his family dying at the stake. But my pity only lasted a second. I knew which he would choose.

"Then burn him, in heaven's name! Leave me and my family in peace!" He slammed the door without looking at me.

_Go ahead, Father, _I thought silently. _Don't let me interfere in your life. _

The men nodded their heads and dragged me to the village square. Rafael's father grinned at me. I knew what he was feeling. Revenge had once been sweet for me, as well.

What followed is blurred in my memory, whether it was just fear or exhaustion from the heat. The hands that held me were not kind, adding their bruises to the gash in my lip. Now and then a hand struck me down. I fell silently each time, tasting dust with humiliation. It was a good thing I seldom carried a knife, I thought, or I would have stabbed it through the filthy bastards' throats.

My head snapped back, striking wood. Were they tying me already? I hadn't noticed. The intense heat was making me dizzy. Anger and fear scorched through me in turn, leaving my body weak and incoherent. Sticks gathered at my feet, piling up almost to my knees.

I gazed out at the crowd. My parents were not among them. I closed my eyes, relieved. _Good. She must not see me here. _

"Look yonder!" someone shouted. Everyone whirled around, forgetting me for a moment. I turned as best I could, the sun stinging my eyes.

A tall man was walking towards us, the sun looming hot and bright behind him. His light cloak fell past his knees; a cocoon of black that disguised his body completely. He glided confidently towards me, ignoring the townsfolk and their crude weapons. The villagers fell silent as his dark face looked up into mine.

"Are you ready, Aro?" he asked softly.

I gasped in relief. He stepped behind me for a moment, and I stumbled off the stones amidst a mass of tangled rope.

"What are you doing?" shouted a voice from the crowd. "Get away from him! He is condemned to the stake."

Stefan laughed. "Burn _me, _if you must, my friends. I'm as guilty as he is."

I saw Giulio's face, white and stricken, at the edge of the crowd. He was staring at Stefan in terror and… recognition?

"Let's kill them both!" Rafael's father hissed. The throng rushed forward, grunting assent.

Stefan moved to meet them, me watching in astonishment. He walked with miraculous calm, hands peacefully by his sides, oblivious to the weapons pointed at him.

The crowd massed closer, a dark, crouching shape. Several men spread out in either direction to catch me in case I seized the opportunity to escape. I could taste their bloodlust in the air—corrosive, sweaty, and unstoppable.

The first man reached Stefan, snarling as he reached up and tore his hood away. I watched him lift his rough ax, bringing it in a downward shift towards my master's neck.

And then, the man froze.

The ax clattered to the ground, slippery in his hands. He stepped back, white with terror. The crowd jostled closer, hissing as if to tear my master to pieces. Then the same shock swept over them, and they too, stopped in their tracks. Rafael's father dropped the knife he held. His face was white. The whole crowd had frozen, their gaze held by the man in front of them.

"_Diavolo!" _

A woman shoved her children indoors, screaming louder than they did. The tension snapped, and everyone scattered in different directions, none of them coming within ten feet of Stefan. Everywhere I looked, there was fear. It twisted their faces until they were unrecognizable. It poisoned the air around me, trailing goosebumps up my skin. I felt a shudder of apprehension as I looked at my master's silent form. He hadn't moved. Hadn't lifted a finger to harm them.

A boy passed close by me, his eyes wild. He jumped aside, suddenly seeing me. His shriek was the last sound I heard before the square was completely deserted. We were alone.

Stefan turned around, his hood once again shading his face. "Are you ready, Aro?" he repeated.

"Yes," I said, finding my voice. Questions burned on my tongue, but I restrained myself. I just wanted to get out of there. It felt like _Strada Sola, _only more desolate.

Stefan walked past me, laughing to himself. I followed him.

"Wait!" I said, stopping suddenly.

"What?" he asked.

"Didyme!"

I spun around, nearly tripping in my haste.

"Aro! Come back!"

I ignored him. I ran back to the square, towards my house. I wanted to bring her with me. Stefan would help me. He understood that I couldn't—

A bony hand closed about my arm. "Are you _mad?" _Stefan hissed. "Your father will kill you, Aro! We need to leave _now!" _

"I can't leave her!"

He shook my shoulders. _"Listen _to me! You can come _back_ for her! Do you understand me? Come back when she's strong enough to bear the journey, and old enough to lead her own life. Now is not the time."

I thought of my sister with a pang. Who knew when I'd see her again?

"Aro…"

But I could come back. And I'd be stronger. Better able to protect her.

"Let's go then," I said, walking past him. He said nothing, but I felt his approval.

We left the village together, taking the _Strada Sola _towards the trees and shaded hills. The sun glowered into the valley, setting fire to the ground beneath my feet before it disappeared behind the hills. Stefan looked back at me, and his eyes flared with pleasure and excitement.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

Times were dark. Blood stained the skies, stifling out the Mycenaean culture with it, and the population suffered a dramatic change for the worse. The plague had raged in several of the smaller villages along the coastline, and it had spread into neighboring areas as well.

None of them, however, came close to where Aro had grown up. His sister remained safe… safe and untouched. For the present.

Survivors were few. One village in particular had been wiped out so completely, only a few old women and children were left. The children ran through alleys, starved like frightened dogs; tearing into diseased animal flesh for nourishment. One dark night, the wind stirred up the dry, famine-struck region, and fire blazed possessively over each hut in turn. It was a sad, strange scene, made worse by the hollow look in the children's eyes…

Yet in all the chaos—the scrambling for water, the hopeless sobs when a hut finally crumbled—there was one person who stood motionless, his face empty of fear. A man stood listlessly in the road. His face was sunken and pale, and his eyes shone brilliantly. A woman ran up to the man, screaming for help. The eyes turned on her, terrible and inhuman, and he dragged her into the hut behind him. When he came out, his skin glowed brighter than ever, but the anger hadn't left his face. His teeth gritted together in frustration.

"Too soon, too soon," he muttered. "I miscalculated."

Another scream broke his concentration, but this time he turned around, rushing back into the dwelling. He stared intently at the body on the floor. It was a young boy, obviously badly hurt. His blood-soaked hair stuck to his face, almost as ghastly as the ragged holes in his throat. He writhed in agony, and blood flowed from the hideous gash.

"Stefan!" the boy screamed. "Please! Help me, please!"

"Peace, young one," the man soothed. "Too soon,"he repeated, gnashing his teeth. He hadn't even had time to close the wounds…

He stepped forward, as if to help the boy, but his eyes flashed upwards. A spark had leapt onto the roof above his head, and was swiftly devouring the simple thatch. He swore, throwing the boy's body over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. He fled from the back of the house just as the roof fell in a shower of sparks and flame.

The boy moaned, and the man felt warm liquid trickling down his neck. A wild look distorted his face. "Keep going," he whispered. "Don't stop."

Yes, it had been a stupid decision, but he couldn't do anything about that now. The boy was too far along in the process. The only way to stop it would be to kill him, and that was impossible. _Two days. Only two more days…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

"_The memories ease the pain inside _

_Now I know why…_

_All of my memories keep you near _

_In silent whispers; silent tears." _

_(Within Temptation) _

_**Didyme **_

_I was running. _

_We loved to run, my friends and I, but I was always the fastest. We'd set a finishing point, tying a ribbon or shred of cloth about a dead tree, then race to it with giddy shouts of laughter. I'd streak past them all, my hair in my face, ripping the cloth from the branch. They were never angry at me for winning; it was all in fun. Ami—dear, sweet Ami—would hug me, saying she was glad I won, for friendship's sake. _

_I ran, and the blood pounded at my temples. I looked over to find my friend, but someone else was in her place. His hair whipped in the wind, as dark as mine was golden. I glared at him. I was so tired of the village boys chasing me, pulling my hair and teasing me twice as much as they did the other girls. I quickened my pace, hoping to leave the boy behind. He caught up easily. _

"_Leave me alone!" I shouted. I reached the tree, jumping for the cloth. He was faster, leaping past me and tying it about my head in a silly fashion. I ripped it off, hot words on my tongue, but he silenced me with a smile. _

_Then my vision blurred. Strange shapes twisted and spun, catching the boy with them until I found myself sitting on a grassy hillside. It was cold, and the sun was sucking warmth from the hills. I cried out in fear. A tall man appeared, looking down at me with the same, gentle smile. _

"_It's alright," he said, though his lips never moved. "Don't be afraid. It's alright." _

_And then he was kneeling before me, and his dark hair covered my shivering arms. "Shh…" he whispered. I looked up at him. His hand reached out, and it was covered in blood… _

* * *

I jerked upright, breathing heavily. The planks that kept the night air from my room were banging against the wall, ruthlessly dragging the wind with them. I arose, shivering, to fasten them to the window, but not before a blast of icy air swept across my tearstained face.

"You were dreaming," I whispered, only partly to myself.

I shut out the cold and went to my bed in a daze. Crouching on the floor, a blanket around my shoulders, I closed my eyes and let my thoughts run unhindered. They fled from me, dancing around the room like wild things. I couldn't stop seeing hisface, however hard I tried. Worst of all, I couldn't really _see_ him. He was just a shadow, a fragment of memory I'd coveted from childhood. I pictured him in my mind—tall, dark, and pale compared to the rough tan of the men and women in our village. I painted him with my mind's eye, but when I reached his face… there was nothing. Only a smile I couldn't see, and a voice I would never hear.

Another tear burned my cheek. _Ten years is a long time,_ I thought, _to leave behind the sister I thought you loved._

I thought of him often, but my dreams of him were precious and less frequent. Earlier that week, though, something had happened that brought on the memories again, only this time they were stronger than ever…

I had been walking with Ami and Mynae (the latter a close friend from childhood). We reached the _Strada Sola, _or "the devil's road" as the village boys called it. Mynae stopped, complaining of a headache, and insisted she go back home alone. I couldn't help thinking it was more an aversion to the road itself than any actual pain. Ami showed no fear, although she seemed a little uneasy when I suggested walking on down the path.

"What is that?" she'd asked, pointing to an object beside my feet.

I'd picked it up, brushing off the muddy residue. It was a small, black stone, shiny from something—or someone, perhaps?—rubbing it repeatedly with circular strokes. I smoothed it with my finger. It was pretty, shining in the sunlight. I'd never seen any stones like it.

Ami had pulled at my arm, her courage waning as the afternoon dragged on. She didn't want to be caught their after dark. "Why?" I'd asked, but she didn't answer. We'd run back together, and I'd left her at her own hut with a farewell.

I'd walked back home, the stone clenched in my fist. It was cool and soothing to touch.

My mother sat alone, pulling loose threads from one of my old gowns. She raised her head as I entered. "At last! Where have you been, _cara?" _

"Just walking. I'm sorry I was so long, Mama."

I kissed her, as I usually did, and she stroked my light curls tenderly. She looked me over, and her gaze lighted on my fist. "What do you have there?"

I laughed lightly. "It's nothing."

"That's not true. Come here."

Her fingers pried open my hand. I sighed, expecting her to draw an explanation out of me. She turned the talisman over in her hands curiously. "Where did you get this?" she asked.

"I found it by the—by a road."

"What road?"

I forced the words out. _"Il Strada sola." _

Her face changed, becoming very still, and the stone dropped from her fingers to the floor. "Get rid of it. I don't want to see it in this house again."

I snatched it before it rolled away into a corner. "But Mama," I pleaded. "Surely you don't believe all those old wives tales? That the road _is_ truly haunted?"

"It is not the road," she said harshly. Her hands shook as she tore out a stubborn thread. "It belongs to the devil and his followers."

Her fingers flashed suddenly, twisting in a strange sign behind her back. All the people in the village were superstitious, but my parents took it to the extreme. But why this time? What harm was there in a small, innocent stone?

I clutched it in my hands, turning away. At the doorway, I stopped. "This belonged to _him,_ didn't it?" I said abruptly.

She froze. "Who?"

"You know… my brother? Is this his?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. You never had a brother." My mother's face was very pale. "Please, Didyme. I'm trying to work. Go and do something."

I went to my room, pressing its smooth shape to my lips when I was sure I was alone.

I lay back down in bed. My back was aching from sitting so long, and the wall was hard.

_You never had a brother. _I rubbed a hand across my forehead, as if doing so would clear the clouds in my mind. Never? Then why did I remember him? Why did I hear his voice in my dreams—playful, soft, and loving? Why did I continue to mark the years he'd been gone, trying to guess his age as time went by? _If_ he was still alive, that is. And nothing could prove to me if he was or not. He was dead to my family. That was all knew.

"He would be twenty-seven now," I whispered aloud. He was always much older than me, I remembered, and I was barely sixteen.

"Aro," I breathed, testing the name on my tongue. I only said it when I was alone; I had learned the hard way not to mention him before anyone else in the village. (My father's rough hand had been proof of that.)

Strange eyes burned through my eyelids, watching me, and I couldn't bear to see them.

"Oh, what did you do?" I whispered. "What did you do that was so terrible?"

Something tapped softly on the wall outside—a bat, perhaps—and fluttered away. No one answered me.

I reached out in the darkness, searching for something. My fingers closed around a small object, and I held it tightly in my hands. The long hours faded eventually, but even the breath of morning couldn't wash away the tears that streamed silently down my face.

_Why did you leave me? _


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

_**One year later (c. 1000 B.C.) **_

The people of Argos had never seen anything like the stranger before.

It was a small town then, like many others, deriving its main food source from the waters of Crete. Neighboring villages had long since disappeared, migrating across the Aegean to escape the plague and other troubles. The Argos sea-port had been hit as well, but only mildly. Ten years was sufficient to clear out most of the pestilence… as well as unwanted visitors.

The hooded stranger was an exception. He appeared out of nowhere, walking the village by night, asking questions that no one could answer.

He was looking for someone. A girl.

"I'm sorry," one woman said, pushing her children behind her. "I don't know whom you seek. There is no one by that name here."

"Are you sure?" the soft voice replied. "I can pay you well."

"No, no," she said hurriedly, and closed the door in his face.

Everyone avoided the man, though they could hardly say why. There was a distinct aura about him that repelled, even as it attracted. He spoke the language perfectly, with a sharp accent that made some of them believe he was from the mountains, near Thessaly. But hadn't the villagers there been wiped out by disease? It seemed to have struck everywhere else, bringing fire with it.

The stranger walked to a crude fountain in the village square, running his fingers idly through the water. If anyone had been looking closely, they would have noticed a bright flash like diamonds follow his movement. But no one was watching.

No one, except Paolo.

The little boy crept daringly towards the fountain. Coins were sometimes thrown in the water, and now and then a child would dig a shining piece of metal from the muddy depths. Paolo was a feisty child, and he wasn't going to let some stranger spoil his fun.

The boy's hand shot into the water, watching the man. He sat very still, his hood over his face as usual, so Paolo ignored him. He pulled a dirty coin from the fountain, then gave a little cry when he saw the man standing close beside him.

"Shh," he said soothingly. He knelt by the boy, tilting his head so it remained in shadow. "What is your name, little one?"

"Paolo," the boy peeped.

The stranger's hands went to his belt. "Can I trade you that coin for another? A better one, perhaps?" He pulled out a piece of gold, and set it in the boy's tiny hand.

"Is it…is that real?" Paolo demanded.

"Yes."

Paolo touched it gently. The coin shone beautifully in the sunlight. "It's mine?"

"Yes," repeated the stranger. "And I will give you another if you can help me."

Paolo fixed his large eyes on the stranger's face, but there was nothing to see.

"I'm looking for someone," the man continued. "A merchant by the name of Rossi. He has a daughter. She would be about seventeen now. Do you know them?"

Paolo thought hard. He really wanted that coin. "There are a _lot_ of merchants here," he said timidly. "Do you want to trade something?"

"No. I only want to speak with him. Does he live nearby?"

"I…I don't know. I don't think so."

The stranger said nothing. Paolo backed away, clutching the gold in his fist. He was starting to feel frightened. Maybe he should've stayed away, after all.

"Wait," said the man. He took out another coin. "You've helped me more than anyone else, so far," he added gently. "Answer me one more question, and you can take this and go."

"Alright," mumbled the boy. He hoped no one was watching them.

"Have you heard of the _Tyrsenoi?" _the stranger asked.

Paolo shook his head.

"It's a very small village, outside of Thessaly. I heard it was destroyed by the plague."

"That's what they say, _signor, _but my father says the villages there survived."

The stranger lifted his hand, grasping the boy firmly by the chin. "They survived? Are you_ sure_ of that?"

"Yes," Paolo whispered. "It's…it's what my father says. He's a merchant, too, and he still buys things from them."

The stranger sighed. His fingers slowly released Paolo's chin, and the boy gave a great gasp of relief.

"My—my payment, _signor?"_ he stammered.

The stranger absently flicked a few coins to the ground, and the little boy rejoiced at the thought of not having to touch the horrible man again. His skin was so strange. Unhealthy. He shoved the money in his pocket and ran off without looking back.

The stranger chuckled to himself, then turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows. The next morning, three young men were found in the street, their limbs twisted beyond recognition, and their faces ghastly pale. The grief-stricken crowd blamed the stranger, but he was gone.

They never saw him again.

* * *

_**Didyme **_

"Didyme?"

I stood up, listening. "Mama?"

She appeared in the doorway, her face strangely anxious. "Didyme? Could you come inside, please?"

I brushed the dust off my skirt, ignoring the three boys lounging close by. They never left me alone these days, whistling and offering assistance where it wasn't needed. It was bad enough half of my friends had stopped speaking to me, as if _I_ were to blame for my looks.

_It's just because my skin is fairer, _I reasoned. I'd never acquired the tan of the Mycenaean coasts, or the thick, black hair of my parents. My hair flowed past my waist, shimmering and writhing in the sun like it was alive. My mother was so proud of my hair. She used to brush and braid it every day when I was younger, singing soft lullabies that weaved through her fingers.

I pushed open the door softly. She was sitting at the table, her work set idly aside. She lifted her head, and I saw at once that all was not well.

"Mama!" I rushed across the floor, the crude wood cold on my bare feet, and knelt at her side. "Mama, are you alright?"

She surprised me by suddenly pulling me against her tightly. Her cheek was rough on my face. Looking up, I was shocked by the change that had come over her. My mother had always been very beautiful, even when Time had carved tiny wrinkles along her mouth and the corners of her eyes. But now, in the shadows, she looked like an old woman. A graying strand of hair hung in her face, and she seemed to shrink away when I touched her forehead.

"Mama, you're not well. Here," I reached for her hand. "Let me finish your work for you. I don't mind the extra chores."

She shook her head. The familiar smile lit her face for a moment. "No, lovie," she whispered. "I don't need anything."

"But you're ill, Mama!"

She shook her head. "No, dear. I'm fine. I only wanted to talk to you." The smile disappeared, and she was serious again. "Your father and I have been worried about you lately, and we thought it'd be best if you stayed indoors for awhile. Just so we can keep a close eye on you."

I frowned, puzzled. "Why?"

"I know it doesn't make sense, dear, but we are only thinking of your safety."

I stared at her. "Is there a robber in town? Someone who's after Father's money? Is it…" Fear seized me. "Is it the plague?"

"No, no, sweetheart. It's none of those things. Please just promise me you'll do as I say. Promise you'll stay inside for awhile. Please?"

The look in her eyes frightened me. There was obviously something she wasn't telling me… something I wasn't supposed to know. I paused for a moment, feeling defiant, but then I looked at her again. She was so frail in the dimming light. She and Father would not be there forever…

I threw my arms around her. "Yes, Mama. I promise."

I heard her sigh, and the sound only darkened the fear growing in my heart.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

"But why can't you come today?" Ami complained. Her hair ruffled about her face in curls, made rowdier by the wind. It was a beautiful day, as she'd said, and the blazing heat had finally gone down a little. Didyme pushed the door open wider, letting a ray of sunlight in the room.

"C'mon, Di," Ami begged. "I know everyone hasn't been that nice to you lately, but you can still be with me and Mynae."

"I can't," I repeated. "My parents want me to stay inside."

She shrugged. "Well, we'll miss you. It isn't any fun without you."

I hugged her, trying to cheer up. "Maybe this is a _good_ thing! Maybe all the other girls will back off a bit."

Ami giggled. "And the boys will get lost."

We talked for a minute longer, but it was too nice a day to linger. I watched her go, then went back into the house, feeling depressed. Father had come home last night with similar instructions for me, and I felt like I couldn't look into their worried faces any longer.

I wandered through the kitchen listlessly, sitting down on the sleeping mat in my room. My chores were finished. There was nothing left to do, except perhaps stare out the window and daydream. Which was exactly was I was doing when a heavy tread moved across the floor.

"Didyme?" my father called anxiously.

"In here, Father."

He appeared in my doorway. The hard lines in his face relaxed. In the past, he'd always rebuked me for spending too much time with my head above the clouds, but he said nothing now. "Where is your mother?" he asked.

"At the village square, buying some things."

"Oh, yes, that's right. Better than you going yourself." He leaned against the wall, running a hand through his graying hair. "I have something for you," he said gruffly. His hand opened, and he came and fastened it about my neck. The talisman I already wore from the _Strada Sola _was torn off hastily, as if it burned his hands.

"This is something I've saved for you, Didyme. It's a protector against evil."

The chain hung heavily on my neck. It was crude in shape, welded roughly from a metal I'd never seen before. A ring of tiny shells intertwined in the links, ending in a large amulet in the shape of an eye. It stared up at me silently, as dark and unseeing as if there was no eye at all. I shivered, wishing I had my old charm back.

I looked up at Father, trying to smile. "Thank you. But I'm in no danger, Father."

"You're in more than you know," he said harshly.

I gasped. This was far more than Mama had told me. "But _why?"_ I begged, tugging at his sleeve. "Who would want to hurt me?"

He looked down at me, his face softening, but a rap sounded at the door. I heard Jonas, his assistant, talking with him at the door, and then there was silence. I was alone.

* * *

**So... how am I doing? **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

_**Aro **_

I had waited over a decade for this. So why was I _still _waiting, kept a prisoner by the shadows, and letting _them_ make the best of me?

I snarled with impatience, not noticing the girl behind me until she was almost at my shoulder. I whirled around, taking in her slummy, unkempt appearance. She looked about nineteen. Maybe older. It was impossible to tell in these filthy villages.

"Looking for someone, love?" she drawled, running a finger along my cloak. She smiled, as if appreciating the fine material. I could hear her imagining how well I would pay…

"No," I said sweetly, stroking her hair. "I was _waiting_ for you."

She laughed appreciatively, nestling closer. It gave me just enough time to grasp her neck, muffling her scream with my cloak. I laid her body beside me, letting the blood cool, then turned to keep watch on my father's house. For three days I'd waited, but there had been no sign of my sister. My father left daily, walking to the merchant's square for trading and bargaining, but no one else walked through the door. I would've thought the place empty, had I not sensed two hearts beating, pounding vitally with a force I alone heard.

_She's there,_ I thought, smiling softly. _She's alive and well. _

Towards evening, I was nearing the end of my patience. My mother had left hours before, but had not returned. The little whore beside me was drained long since, but I couldn't draw more humans to me without making myself conspicuous. This wasn't like the other towns. Superstition (as I well knew) was part of everyday life, and rumors of vampirism had already thrown the village into a mild panic. I secretly blamed Stefan for the whole situation, although I was also at fault. During our time together, he had grown reckless, killing as he pleased; watching me with greedy jealousy, as if regretting he'd taught me so much...

I laughed softly to myself. He was such a fool. They were all fools.

All except Caius.

Yes, Caius, was different. Many vampires preferred solitude to a coven, but no one had dared approach him before. He guarded his freedom with venom, and like myself, was not afraid to destroy anything that came in his way. Unlike Stefan, he was impressed by my gift for mind-reading. "I've heard about this," he said once. "Immortals with these strange powers. I have no gift myself, but what does that matter? You and I were meant for this, Aro. Together, we are invaluable."

He wasn't lying. No one could lie to me. I only knew I'd found a fiercely devoted supporter, and he would help me achieve Stefan's original dreams of power.

But things were changing rapidly. Stefan began closing himself off from me, never letting me touch him. After half a decade, I could sense his change in attitude towards me. He despised what he had created. He wanted the power for himself.

Which was why I'd destroyed him.

As a young boy, Stefan had taught me to manipulate the minds of others, along with controlling my own emotions. Overtime, I had far surpassed him in this area. I had also discovered the meaning of fear. Nothing unnerved humans more than apathy, and nothing terrified an immortal more than having their thoughts laid bare. Thanks to Caius, I had become something of a legend. I was at once both heartless and unstoppable; sympathetic, but cruel. I found I had the ability to form an affectionate bond with any living thing, and then just as swiftly obliterate it from existence. At first, my own cruelty terrified me, but then I blocked out _that, _too. Life was a lively, violent game, and I cheated it daily with no consequence to myself.

I jerked my head up. The sun was sinking beyond the black hills, lifting me from my reverie. I sighed. Sunlight didn't actually _hurt _us, as the legends insisted. No, it had quite the opposite effect. But I'd never been comfortable in the sun. As an immortal, I was used to following Stefan's nocturnal pattern of living. Besides, there was no way to explain the superhuman effect its rays had on our skin. I used to joke with Caius that since the villagers believed we burned to nothing, "wouldn't we be taken for dazzling angels instead?"

He'd frowned at me, taking it seriously. Caius took _everything _seriously.

The door to my father's hut creaked, and the laughter died on my lips. I drew back against the wall. Every nerve in my body was strained as I saw the figure of a young woman steal from the house. I saw nothing of her face, which was shielded by a rough cloak, but a white, delicate hand reached out to latch the door behind her. She walked quickly down the street, passing inches from where I stood. I caught my breath as a scent like spring reached me.

"Didyme…" I whispered, but she was already gone. I longed to run after her, hold her close to me; tell her I was sorry for leaving her alone. But that would ruin all my careful planning. I could not take her. Not while my parents were still alive.

Darkness slithered over the landscape, blotting out the moon like a giant, unseen claw. I buried the dead girl, then whirled around just in time to see a light bobbing up the street. My parents rushed up to the door, fiddled with the latch, then closed it again.

"Now," I whispered softly. My heart seemed to awaken in my chest. Excitement was pulsing through my veins, and I moved slowly forward until I was standing in front of the hut.

No one answered my knock. The street was dead silent. It was as if the darkness had heralded my coming, touching each alley and corner with cold fingers.

I flicked at the latch lightly, shattering the wood. The door creaked open, revealing the small, dirty room that was choked with memories of my childhood. Few of them were good ones.

My keen eyes spied my parents, standing together by the table. My mother had her face in her hands, as if crushed by some terrible news. My father stood over her. He didn't look up until the door hit the wall, letting in the night.

"Good evening," I whispered. The hood fell away from my face.

My mother staggered against the wall, her hands silencing her scream. I watched as my father reached into his vest, pulling out something smooth and black. It was a cross. He backed away towards the wall, the tiny jewels glittering in the darkness, and held it out in front of him. His long arm came down, shielding her from me.

I stifled a laugh. "Why don't you sell that, Father, and use the money to pay off your debtors? Or are you so far buried in superstition?"

"Get out, vampire!" he said hoarsely.

"Vampire?" I mocked him. "Now, now, Father. You know better than that. There's no such thing as vampires." I walked closer.

"Don't come nearer!" he shouted, pressing against the wall. I could see the veins bulging in his neck and forehead. Veins that were thick, strong, and filled with so much blood…

"Aren't you glad to see me, Father?" I whispered.

His mouth frothed in fear and rage; saliva forming at the corners. I turned from his red face to the darker one below his elbow. "And you, Mother? No welcome from _you,_ either?"

She covered her eyes, not answering.

I sniffed the air briefly, testing. "Where is Didyme?" I asked.

My mother moaned. My father rose to his feet, nearly snapping the cross in his fist. "You shall not have her!' he snarled. "I'll kill her first!"

My teeth clenched in a smile. "Yes, that would be like you, wouldn't it, Father? Too bad you didn't dispose of your own son when you had the chance."

"I have no son."

I lunged across the room, gripping his hard, strong neck with one hand.

"And I have no father," I hissed.

There was a dull, snapping sound, and his body slumped in my grasp. I flung it from me, laughing as it hit the floor.

My mother darted towards the door, but I was faster. Her dark, wild hair covered her face as she stared up at me in horror.

"Why, Mother?" I whispered. "Why did you abandon me, when all I ever wanted was a _little _kindness?"

Her body heaved in a frantic gasp. I watched as her eyes slowly froze, fixed on me in a silent expression. I stepped over her body, knocking against the table. I was about to smash that, too, with my fist, when I heard a soft sound coming from up the road. My head lifted, listening intently.

It was the voice of a girl, and she was singing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 **

_**Didyme **_

After Father left, I waited alone for a long time, twisting the chain in my fingers. I couldn't forget what he'd said. _Was _I in danger? And if so, from what? I wished I could go to the village square. _Someone _must know what was going on. It couldn't just be my parents who were anxious.

A stone flew through my window, hitting the wall behind me with a soft "plink."

I leaped to my feet. "Who's there?"

"Shh!" Ami's face appeared. She was breathing heavily. I pulled her up, and she grabbed my hands, spinning me about. "Are your parents here?" she whispered excitedly.

"No. What's going on?"

"I just felt so bad for you, shut up in here all the time. But don't worry! We've come to steal you!"

I looked over her shoulder. Mynae smirked at me, along with another girl from the village.

"But, Ami… I _promised." _

She ignored me. "It will be so much fun, Didyme! A lot of us are going to the hills to set up bonfires and dance and—oh, Di, you _have _to come!"

I sighed. I was so torn inside. What if my parents were right? _On the _other _hand,_ I reasoned, _why hasn't whatever it is come after me by now…? _

"You go," I instructed Ami. "I'll catch up in a few minutes."

The girls giggled, and I saw them rush across the dirty streets, their skirts flying. Guiltily, I threw my cloak about my shoulders, pulling the hood down low. I reached for the necklace on my bed, but then changed my mind. I didn't want anyone asking questions. Especially ones I couldn't answer.

They were waiting for me at the end of the street. I slipped my hand into Ami's, and she squeezed it affectionately. "So where are we going, exactly?"

"Oh, just to the border," she replied. "The forest isn't so dark there, and it's further away from the village."

"Good!" Mynae said suddenly. "The farther, the better. I'm sick of being spied on."

The other girl laughed. "That's only because you can't be trusted with any boy in sight."

Mynae scowled, but didn't reply. I laughed with them halfheartedly, the feeling of guilt growing stronger. Outside, in the darkness, it was much easier to believe what Father had said. Every stone and branch looked like a threat. I closed my eyes, feeling sick all of a sudden. They asked so little of me. Was it so terrible to stay home just awhile longer?

I stopped. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "But I really have to go back."

"Go back?" Mynae repeated. "Don't be silly. We're almost there."

"But you'll be alone," Ami added. She smiled at me. "Come on, Di. It's alright."

"I have to go back," I said firmly. "My mother…she wasn't looking well, and…and I have to make sure she's all right."

I hurried away from them, ignoring their disappointment and surprise. I could hardly see as I raced down the hill. My bare feet caught on roots and thorns, and more than once I felt a sharp pain on my ankles. It was still pitch black when I reached the _Strada Sola. _I clutched my side, gasping for breath.

Then the moon came out. The darkness receded, and I moved quickly. My long hair brushed in my face, and the light caught in the strands, weaving silver with gold. Once I entered the village, I stopped, slowing to a walk. It was so quiet. The silence squeezed my chest, forcing me to breathe shallowly. It was as if no one lived there at all.

I opened my mouth, and began to sing softly. At first, nothing came out but a hoarse whisper. Then my voice grew stronger, and I soothed my fears with an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me:

"_Fa la ninna bel bambin _

_Fa la nanna bambin bel…" _

I could see the house now. I walked a little faster, and the moon shone down grimly in dusky shadows.

"Hello?" I whispered. "Mama?"

It was so dark under the eaves, I almost took the darkest shape for a large barrel, or a bundle of clothing. But then it moved, walking down the steps with slow, graceful strides.

"Father?"

The shadow stopped, and the moonlight cast a brighter light over the figure. "Didyme?" it whispered.

My heart crashed against my chest. I didn't know this man. I didn't know that voice. But I'd just seen him leave _my_ house, closing the door behind him.

"Who are you?" I said shakily. "Where are my parents?"

He took another step, and I shuddered in fear. I had no weapon; no defense of any kind. _You were right, Mother and Father. Oh, why didn't I _listen?

"Please don't be afraid," he said in a kinder tone. "I would never hurt you."

"Then where are my parents?" I demanded. "Why are you here?"

The shadow stopped, and I thought I heard a sigh. "Do you not know me, little sister?"

My eyes widened.

He pulled back his hood. "Has it been so long?" he asked. "Have you really forgotten me?"

I couldn't speak.

"Of course, I can't blame you," he continued. "After all, I _did_ abandon you. You were no more than a child when it happened."

I tried to listen, tried to focus, but my heartbeat was pounding too loudly. It drummed in my ears until I cried out softly, too stunned to think. "A—Aro?"

He held out his arms, and I fled into them. We held each other tightly for a long time. I looked up at him. He smelled so wonderful—a strong, foreign spice, and something I couldn't even name. I ran my fingers over his face and hair, still unbelieving.

"Yes, I'm here," he laughed. "I'm not a ghost."

"I've missed you so much," I whispered. "Why did you leave me?"

He stroked my hair. "I had no choice, sister. I was called away by…something…" His tone drifted, and I looked up at him quizzically. He smiled down at me. "But now we're together again," he said brightly.

I nuzzled closer against him, sighing in content.

Aro kissed my forehead. Then he moved away a little, holding my arms out to look at me. "My, but you are beautiful," he said admiringly. "You must have this entire village at your feet."

I blushed. His gaze was so piercing, I had to look away. But I was glad to have pleased him.

"Tell me, _piccola," _he said, using his old pet name for me. "What have you been doing all these years?"

I laughed. "Growing up, of course. But what about _you? _You must have had some wonderful adventures by now."

Aro smiled, but made no answer. I walked forward, touching his cheek gently. His skin was like ice. I looked up at him, and saw the deep shadows lining his face. "Are you alright?" I asked anxiously.

He kissed my hand, laughing softly. "I've never felt better." As I watched, his eyes lit up with a feverish expression. "I've never felt so alive, Didyme," he whispered. "I wish you could feel the same."

I smiled at him, uncertain how to respond. "I'm glad, dear brother."

"Didyme…"

"Yes?"

"Will you do something for me?"

"Anything!"

He hesitated. "I'm going to leave here soon, and… I want you to come with me."

I felt my heart sink. "But you just got here. Where will you go?"

"Far from here. I want to travel a little more, and I want you to be there with me."

I laughed a little. "But what about Mama? And Father?"

His face darkened, but I didn't notice. A burst of joy was radiating inside my breast. "Wait!" I said breathlessly. "We have to tell them you're here! We have to… oh, but you've spoken to Father already, haven't you?"

His face was suddenly very somber. "Didyme, there's something you should know."

"Come inside," I urged. I pulled at his hand, but I could've been tugging a rock. He didn't move.

"Didyme…"

"What?"

His eyes were very dark. I didn't remember them being so dark. "Didyme, your… _our _parents are… dead."

I slowly let go of him. "Dead?" I repeated.

"Or they soon will be. It's the plague."

If Aro had said they'd been swallowed up by hell, it wouldn't have lessened the thrill of horror that shivered up my spine. The plague. Here, in the village. I covered my mouth, biting back a scream. I'd only heard stories, but never the real thing…

Aro watched me sympathetically. I didn't see him. My thoughts were swimming in horrifying circles. How could I stand here, while they suffered? I would go back. I _would_ go in that house again if it killed me. I couldn't let them die. Oh, God, they _couldn't _die without me!

Aro grabbed my hand, dragging me away from the door. "Didyme, _please!" _

"Let me go!" I screamed. "I have to help them!"

His hand covered my face gently. "Didyme, they're beyond anyone's help. I saw for myself. There is only death in that house."

I couldn't stop screaming. I felt my body being lifted; felt my face pressed to his chest, but the cry of pain went on in my head, ringing over and over. _They're dead… they're dead… _

* * *

_**Aro **_

I carried my sister as far from the village as possible. She was still sobbing when we stopped, and her body shook uncontrollably in my arms. I brushed a lock of hair from her lovely, well-formed cheek. The deepest feeling of tenderness came over me. I could almost hear Caius' jeer of laughter. "What," he would say, "so soon after an act of brutality?"

_You know me better than that, _I thought, smiling. It was my infallible gift of repression and self-control that enabled me to do so. Besides, what did the Rossi's matter now? Damn the village. Damn my parents. I had my angel in my arms again, and she wasn't going anywhere.

I looked down at her again, and triumph glowed inside me. She was so beautiful. No one would believe we weren't royalty; not when this vision stood by my side. We would be unstoppable. After all, what were the odds of my sister not inheriting a similar gift to mine? I could only imagine the wonders she would reveal to me when the venom had worked its way into her system…

Didyme moaned softly, gripping my arms. The silver moonlight accented the curves of her healthy, vibrant skin, which was suffused now and then with a brilliant crimson. I could feel my mouth go dry with thirst. Unable to stop, I focused on the creamy perfection of her throat. _So beautiful…so perfect. She will be magnificent as one of us. _

"They're dead…" she whimpered again.

"Shh…" I kissed her forehead. She opened her tearstained eyes. They were like sapphires, sparkling next to the curtain of gold that spread across her shoulders and along the ground.

"Didyme," I said, coating my voice with false grief. _"I _miss them, too, you know. It does no good to dwell on the past. It was only fortunate I came along, and saved you from such a horrible death."

A pearly tear traced down her cheek.

"Besides," I continued. "You would have left soon, anyway. I'm sure a lovely girl like you had dozens of suitors lined at the door. In a year's time, you would have been off, traveling with some other merchant's son away from home. Isn't that so?"

She nodded silently.

I kissed her again. "Please don't cry anymore, love. It breaks my heart to see tears in your pretty eyes, and I want this journey to be a happy one."

She ran a finger through my long hair. "Would you have come for me anyway, Aro, if my parent's had not died?"

"Of course," I said reassuringly.

"But what if they hadn't let me go?" Her forehead creased. "They always told me you didn't exist, but I was _sure _they'd be glad to see you, if…"

I held her closely against more tears. "Shh…nothing happened. Father and I just had a disagreement, that's all. But I asked him to forgive me, and he did."

"But you were _inside," _she said fearfully. "The plague spares no one."

"Don't worry about me, love." I felt the venom pooling under my tongue. Her scent was heaven, and the warm pressure of her body was—

"Aro?"

"_Si?" _

Her arms went around my neck, and I felt her tremble. "You will not leave me, will you?" she whispered.

I held her face in my hands. "Never again, precious sister."

She fell asleep in my arms, smiling peacefully. When she awoke hours later, I was eager to leave. I lifted her gently, and rushed away from there. When we reached the canyon leading out of the valley, I turned, shielding her face so she wouldn't see the bright tongues of flame rising over the hills.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 **

"What is taking him so long?"

The blonde vampire paced back and forth, grinding his teeth impatiently. There was little room to move about in the sewer. The only opening was through the ceiling, where you pushed aside the metal plate before pulling yourself out. Only a thin crack of light shone through. Occasionally, a shadow passed over it, bringing with it the scent of fresh blood…

"Three weeks," the vampire muttered. "What does he expect us to do for _three _weeks?"

"Patience, Caius," rumbled a deep voice in the corner. "I'm sure he will keep his word."

Caius laughed bitterly. "You don't know him as I do. He'll do whatever he bloody _wants, _because he knows he's invaluable. He knows I can't carry this on without him."

"Did he say he was bringing someone?"

"He didn't _say_ anything. Just up and left."

The shadow chuckled. "Well, he knows where to find us."

"Marcus, you are confoundedly optimistic."

"I'm sorry it irritates you."

Caius gave up pacing, sitting down beside his friend. "I'm starved," he snapped. "Why do we have to wait for dusk to eat?"

"Safer."

"I didn't become a vampire to _wait _for others!"

Bitter complaints continued to pour from the vampire's mouth, but Marcus endured with the quiet, somber attitude that was peculiar to him. He was different from Caius in every respect, except, of course, the pallor and vivid eyes of their kind. Where Caius was fiery and cruel, Marcus was calm and controlled. He had stores of patience at his command, and it wasn't all for nothing. He had lived at least half a century before Aro or his friend, and his life had yet to truly begin. He looked forward to meeting Aro again. Better yet, the vampire seemed to have taken a strong liking to him.

"Idiot!" Caius was still complaining. "I don't care what you say, Marcus. I'm satisfying myself."

Marcus smiled. "It's darker now. Let's go."

An hour later, the two friends crept through the city's alleys. Their hoods were pulled low. The torches the humans used for light was not as revealing as the sun, but it gave the vampires a sinister, inhuman appearance. Caius walked in front of his friend. Marcus may have the gentler countenance, but his height alone was enough to intimidate the casual passer-by.

"Next time, pick a younger one," Caius hissed. "I feel like there's not a drop of blood in my veins."

"I prefer to avoid children," Marcus answered quietly.

Caius scoffed. The street was deserted, and they quickly fled towards the hole in the ground which was their hiding place. Caius grasped the cover, then dropped it just as suddenly.

"What is it?" Marcus whispered, kneeling beside him.

Caius smiled, pointing to the grate. A thin, red ribbon was tied around it, flapping idly in the breeze. "It's the signal," he whispered excitedly. "He's waiting for us outside the city."

_Or "they", _thought Marcus. He'd only met Aro briefly, yet he'd seen enough to recognize the leader springing up in their midst. He was ruthless, he was passionate… and he attracted followers like dogs trailing their master. The fact Caius had accepted this leadership so willingly had surprised him.

Marcus followed his friend to the city gates. They passed over before the guards even knew they were there. _Would he have accepted it if Aro didn't possess such a gift? _he wondered.

The darkness lifted as they glided swiftly over the soft earth. A yellow moon had risen in the east, casting delicate shadows over the luscious countryside. This area, at least, had not been touched by famine or plague. It was partly for that reason the three friends had chosen the spot. There were no sickly wraiths feeding off the pits of corpses, or half-starved humans.

"There he is," Marcus noted.

They walked up the hill, cloaks fluttering, to where Aro waited. His eyes were vividly bright from recent feeding, and he extended his hand to Marcus in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, my friend," he said warmly. He turned to Caius, whispering something for a moment. Marcus stood off to the side, listening intently. He could hear a rapid pounding, followed by hoarse, tense breathing.

"You brought someone with you?" he asked suddenly.

Aro smiled. "Yes, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait to meet my guest. She is not herself at the moment."

"She?" Caius stared at him in astonishment, then barked a laugh. "Aro, you rogue! You brought us your mate, did you not? Who is she? Some voluptuous little village girl, no doubt." He punched Aro's shoulder lightly, still laughing.

"My sister, in fact."

Marcus frowned. "Your sister? You've placed us under some misconception, Aro. Caius and I were expecting reinforcements. And what do you bring? A vulnerable human, hardly through the changing process?"

Aro placed a hand on his shoulder. "Oh come now, Marcus. You yourself have no relatives to fall back on. My sister is important to me, and will be to _all _of us. Imagine the gifts she will possess!"

Marcus snorted. "You sound so certain."

Aro's eyes flashed in the moonlight. "Oh, I _am."_

* * *

_**Didyme **_

"You promised…" I whispered feebly.

"What?" Aro said softly. He knelt beside me, laying my head on his lap. "What did you say, love?"

"You promised…you wouldn't…leave me…"

"But I'm right here, _piccola. _You are safe."

A knife twisted in my stomach. A thousand knives, actually. They darted and stabbed all over my body, each tip a flaming agony. Everywhere was an inferno of pain.

I moaned out a cry, feeling Aro's cold hands on my face. "I don't want to be a vampire," I sobbed. "They are evil. You yourself told me they were evil."

"When I was young, my little one," he said soothingly. "I am wiser now. You must believe me. Would I ever do anything to hurt you?"

"But it _does _hurt, Aro. You promised it would stop. When will it stop?"

"Only a few hours more, _piccola." _

I dragged myself up off the ground, pressing my tearstained face on his chest. My neck hurt terribly, as if a strange insect had stung me. At first, when the pain became too unbearable, I'd bitten my lips until they were stained in blood. But it had been a long time since I'd tasted blood. It had been a long time since I felt _anything. _Only the pain. The pain was my watcher, my companion, my tormentor. It left no room to think. When my brother was with me, it was easier to bear it. Especially when he sang to me, or told me stories. I could always hear his voice, no matter how much it hurt.

Because he wouldn't lie to me. He'd told me everything, the day after I'd fled from the village of my birth. He'd told me everything, despite the thrill of horror that shot through me. He'd taken me in his arms, kissing me tenderly… and that was all I remembered. Vampires, pain, and death. It was all so unreal; so confusing. I could hardly believe the angelic being above me was what he claimed to be. He was so kind…so compassionate. And he _was_ my brother, wasn't he?

Aro hummed to himself. My body trembled in his grasp, but he never released his hold on me.

"Who were you talking to?" I said hoarsely.

"Some good friends, my dear. I told them you weren't feeling well, and that they could meet you in the morning."

I stared up at him. Relief poured through every vein. "So soon?"

"Yes, Didyme."

I squinted through his curtain of hair at the moon. "Am I different?"

His eyes glowed down at me. "You are a vision, Didyme. You are far from being a monster."

He began humming again, soothing me, and I slowly relinquished what was left of my body.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 **

_I found a reason for me _

_To change who I used to be _

_A reason for all that I do _

_And the reason is you." _

_(Hoobastank)_

_**Marcus **_

The sun dawned over the ridge, illuminating everything with a pale, golden light. I closed my eyes, letting the rays stroke my face and hair. There had never been enough sunlight for me. Caius and Aro had known this climate all their lives, but I hailed from the darker, colder regions further north, where sunlight was coveted. Life had been very difficult as a human, so I readily accepted a different course. The vampire who'd changed me had left no trace behind him. He'd left me to survive on my own. But I was stronger for it.

Caius came and stood beside me. "Have you seen Aro yet?" he asked.

"No."

"Do you suppose her gift will be immediately apparent?"

"Mine was. I didn't know of it until Aro told me, but it was there all the same. The talents involving mental powers are always much less perceptible."

"Just our luck," Caius muttered. "Does she know Aro will be watching her like a hawk?"

I was about to reply when Aro's voice was heard through the trees. He walked into the sunlight, kicking a few dried olives on the ground before him. The trees themselves were unbelievably old; gnarled and twisted into unrecognizable shapes. And yet they still bore fruit.

"Well?" Caius demanded. "Where is she? We don't have all day."

I peered into the darkness behind Aro. There was no heartbeat, but a soft, almost inaudible breathing.

"Is she frightened of us?" he asked suddenly.

Aro laughed. "Nonsense. She's only shy. You were half-right, Caius. She _has _lived in a village all her life." He turned around, reaching out his hand. "Didyme? Come here!"

A slight shadow moved towards them, then stopped.

"Nothing will hurt you, sweetheart. These are my friends."

There was another moment's hesitation, and time itself seemed to pause. Then, very slowly, a delicate foot stepped into the sunlight, and a female vampire emerged from the darkness.

I looked at Caius, but he was as speechless as I was. A soft glow descended on both of us, and I saw the hard lines in his face soften. She was beautiful beyond all imagination. Her hair—or was it just a trick of the sun? — cascaded past her waist, arranged in intricate braids and jewels that Aro had no doubt given her. She was very young, and her body swayed naturally with the white purity of her dress.

Her starry eyes remained fixed on the ground as she came closer and slipped her arm quietly around Aro's waist. I could feel her love for him pouring through every vein.

"This is my sister, Didyme," Aro went on. "Home with me at last."

Caius stepped forward, catching her hand in his. "It is a pleasure, _Didyme." _I was shocked to see him smiling.

She looked up at Aro, who nodded at her. "This is my friend, Caius. And that is Marcus."

"Didyme," I held out my hand to her, not really knowing what I was doing. After more coaxing from Aro, she finally placed her hand in mine. On impulse, I lifted it to my lips.

"I'm happy to meet you, Didyme." And I was. More than I'd ever been before.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Her voice struck a chord inside me. I spoke, eager to hear it again. "Are you enjoying Thessaly?" I asked. What else could I say?

"Yes."

"Where were you from before?"

She looked at her brother again. "Well… it was—it was a very small town."

I heard Aro laugh softly. "She's not usually this shy," he whispered to us inaudibly.

I tried again, softening my voice. "You look very lovely, Didyme."

Her head lifted slowly, and she looked at me for the first time.

A sensation of the purest joy swept through my body. It was as if the whole universe had become centered on this one girl, and somehow she had sucked my life into that circle of gravity. I felt myself pulled towards her as I spoke. Her lips parted, and a dazzling smile lit her eyes.

"Thank you," she repeated.

I could feel Aro's eyes on me, but I ignored him. He'd said he'd brought a relative back with him. He did not say he'd stolen an angel.

Aro's sharp sigh broke the silence. "I'm starved!" he exclaimed. "Shall we, Marcus?" He pinched Didyme's cheek fondly. "You're welcome to join us, sister," he added.

She stared at all three of us, incredulity on her face. "Hunt?"

"Oh, great." Caius glared at Aro. "Did you explain _anything?" _

Aro smiled unpleasantly. "What better way to learn than through experience?"

As if answering him, a sweet scent drifted through the clearing where we stood. A laborer was at work, grafting olive branches to several dying trees. He sang with the accent peculiar to the area, and his face and hands were sweaty in the rising sun.

Aro looked at Caius and I, as if weighing our opinions. His gaze rested on me the longest.

"Well, go on!" Caius snapped. "Show her how it's done."

Aro sauntered into the clearing, pulling up his hood. The sun was at his back, but it was best to be cautious. I felt Didyme come up beside me. She was watching her brother with an expression of confusion mixed with concealed terror.

"Lovely work you've done here," I heard Aro say politely. "May I see how it's done?"

A shudder went through my body, and I knew what was coming. We seldom spoke to the humans we slaughtered.

The man bent down, reaching for the grafting shears, when Aro's hand lashed out. He dragged him over to us, keeping a firm grasp on the man's throat.

"Look, little sister," he said softly. "See this poor creature? He is the prey. _We _are the predators; the hunters. You must follow this pattern if you wish to survive."

He bent his head, tearing open the man's wrists easily. Blood spurted to the ground, staining the dust with rich red. Didyme flinched. The laborer was frozen in Aro's grip, the shock too sudden for him to scream.

I stepped forward. "Aro…"

"Of course," Aro continued, smiling at his sister. "This isn't always the most effective way. But it _does _sate your lust quickly, doesn't it, Caius?"

They laughed together. I could see the venom pooling in my friend's mouth.

Aro bent the man's head back. "Now watch closely, Didyme. The jugular vein is a given for most immortals, but I prefer the thick, muscular part of the throat. It's so much more delectable."

He bared his teeth as he spoke, and then dug brutally into the skin. The man found his voice at last, screaming as his own blood ran into his mouth…

I looked at Didyme, and my heart bled. Her hands were clasped over her eyes in a pitiful attempt to block out the carnage before her. I thought I heard a sob.

"Stop this, Aro!" I demanded. "She understands now! _Stop_ it!"

Aro looked up at me. His hand moved carelessly across his mouth. "Why, Marcus," he said, surprised. "If you wanted the creature for yourself, you should have asked."

Caius chuckled. "Of course, Marcus. We will share with you."

"I've lost my appetite," I snapped.

I turned on my heel, ignoring their protests of surprise. I walked until I could no longer hear Didyme's sobs.

"What is wrong with you?" I hissed furiously. "You are a vampire. Get over it!"

I'd accepted what I was. Completely. But everything had taken on a new light, and the shadows of doubt had lengthened in my mind. Even the sun, which was so beautiful to me an hour ago, seemed to assume an appearance of evil.

And what were _we? _Evil. We were souls to damned to hell. We never looked to higher ground. We saw ourselves as gods, but we were lower than the dust.

I gripped my long hair in my hands. "She can't be one of us," I whispered. There was not a cell in her body that spoke ill intent. We'd brought an angel into our midst, and she was being corrupted before my very eyes…

Caius came up beside me. His eyes were bright with fresh blood. "Get ahold of yourself," he said quietly. "We can't afford dissent. Not now."

"She's not one of us," I repeated. "She can't be."

He looked at me strangely. "Does it matter?"

I turned around, catching sight of Aro walking towards us. Didyme clutched his arm, and a streak of crimson ran down her dress.

_Yes, _I thought savagely. _Yes, it does. _

* * *

**A big "THANK YOU" to the devoted readers who are still following this story. Believe me... I wish there were more of you!**

**Review and let me know how it's going. I'm so relieved we've finally brought these two together! **


	14. Chapter 14

**THANK YOU to everyone who's reviewed this story! I'm so happy to have more of you! **

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Aro gazed into the sun, then looked down at the endless, richly-green expanse. "I confess, Caius, I'm quite impressed by your choice so far."

Caius smiled. "Welcome to Dacia.*****"

Didyme peered around her brother's elbow. The air was sweet with summer, and the land threw its arms towards them as if truly welcoming them. A smile dawned on her face—the first smile since her brother had changed her.

She turned her head slightly. Marcus was watching her, a similar smile on his lips. Their eyes met, and he looked away.

Caius glided down the hill swiftly, and they saw for the first time the gleaming bustle of a city in the distance. "Sleitev," Caius told them, smiling proudly.

They followed him closely for several minutes, stopping when they reached the outskirts of the city wall. The walls were stone, but not of the same strength as Thessaly. It was a smaller city, true, but teeming with activity. Caius gestured with his hand, and a black shadow detached itself and came towards them. Didyme gasped. The man was gigantic—he reached at least seven feet.

"You took a long time," the shadow whispered. The accent was harsh, much like his dark features. He leaned away from the sun, hiding his face.

"No longer than needed," Caius retorted. "Do you not know who this is?"

The vampire turned, and the smirk on his face disappeared. Didyme watched in astonishment as he knelt to the ground at her brother's feet.

"Forgive me, my lord," he said hurriedly. "I didn't see you."

Aro laughed. "There's no need to kneel, Santiago. Your loyalty is all I ask for."

Santiago rose. "We've heard of you," he said respectfully. "You are welcome here, my lord."

Aro looked up at him affectionately. "And what of you, my friend? Do you regret Caius taking you from your native land?"

Santiago's eyes flashed. "Spain is not what it was, my lord. While the barbarians conquered the land, the immortal leaders were doing their own dirty work." His jaw clenched with hatred. "Our Spanish covens were obliterated."

"All except one," Aro murmured. "And these immortal leaders…?"

"You know them well enough, my lord. They form the Dacian coven, guarding this city with venom."

Instead of seeming perturbed, Aro smiled. "Stefan? I knew someone by that name. And dear Vladimir, too. It's wonderful to see brothers so close, isn't it?"

Santiago ground his teeth.

"But it seems to me…" Aro continued, looking at the city. "It seems to me that two centuries is quite enough to hold half of Europe." He looked at Santiago slyly. "Don't you think?"

A disturbing smile spread across the vampire's face. "We will crush them, my lord."

"Ah…" Aro stared up at the wall again. "That's easily _said,_ of course. But do we have the strength?"

"Aro…" Caius drew his friend aside. "I've already told you. You have more than enough vampires here willing to lay down their lives for you, and for me. Even Marcus has coordinated some small covens from the north. We only need a few days to organize them all."

"They're all of similar nationalities, I hope? I would hate to have a small war on my hands before we've even started."

Caius snorted. "That's not likely. Except the coven from Assyria, they're all European."

Aro raised his eyebrows. "Assyria? Excellent. They know something of brute force, then." He turned to Santiago. "And Stefan and Vladimir? Do we know anything else of them?"

"They're legendary, my lord, of course, but…"

Caius finished. "They're talentless beyond the skills of a vampire."

"Hm." Aro stared up at the wall again.

Marcus had stood silent, only half-listening to them converse. His attention was focused on a much more pleasant source.

Aro's sister had quickly bored of the conversation, and was kneeling on the grass, lifting a delicate butterfly in her hands. Marcus looked closer, smiling. It was a charming picture, although the beauty of the girl far eclipsed the tiny creature. She pressed it to her cheek, giggling, but cried out in dismay when it crumpled in her hands.

"You must be more careful," Marcus said, walking closer. She instantly rose, bowing her head shyly. The shattered fragments of wing fell to the ground like golden dust.

_Poor child, _he thought. _She hardly knows her own strength. _He remembered her terror at her first feed, but he pushed away the memory quickly.

"Have you always been called Didyme?" he asked kindly.

She peered at him under thick lashes. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Some immortals prefer to assume different names than their human ones. I myself don't remember the name I was given at birth."

She cocked her head. "Really?"

"No. I took the name of my maker, after he was killed in a fight between covens." He saw her eyes sadden, and quickly added, "But I have never, in all my years, heard a name as lovely as yours."

Didyme smiled, and his breath nearly stopped. How did she _do _that?

"It's really 'Didyme Andria,' she said shyly. "It means 'twins.' My mother thought of it. Aro and I were very close, you see."

This seemed to depress her, and she looked away again. Marcus felt the glow in his heart dissipate. "You miss your parents, don't you?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she whispered.

He lifted her chin, marveling at the texture of her skin. Her wide eyes stared into his. "We all miss our families," he told her. "But the pain gets easier with time. You'll see."

She sighed. "I suppose."

"Besides," he continued brightly. "You have your brother with you. That's more than most immortals can ask for."

Her lips trembled a little, and Marcus realized he hadn't yet removed his hand from her face. He wanted to stay longer; hold onto the fragile link between them, but just then they were interrupted.

"Marcus?"

His stepped away from her. Aro came up between them. "Having a nice chat together?" he asked genially. He hugged Didyme warmly, who sighed into his chest with relief. Marcus wished _he _could be the one to comfort her.

_Well done, _he thought bitterly. _You've only made her uncomfortable. Why couldn't you talk of something else? She has enough to deal with at present. _

"Ready now, Marcus?" Aro asked.

"Yes, if you are."

"Let's go, then." They walked off together, Didyme following. Aro continued. "Caius and Santiago are examining the wall from all sides, looking for a good entrance." He laughed. "Who knows? Perhaps we shall just resort to the sewers for the attack."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Aro. Do we even have a count of your devoted followers yet?"

"Oh, come now, Marcus! Don't be so modest! They are loyal to you _and _Caius. I'm not the only one instrumental to our success."

Marcus leaned closer, so Didyme wouldn't hear. "What about _her?" _

"Didyme?"

"Yes. What will _she _do?"

Aro looked at his friend calmly. "I will leave that to you, Marcus. Surely you will be able to find some talent; perhaps a mind-reading ability like my own, only more subtle. That is why I changed her, you know. For the possibility."

Marcus frowned. "Not affection?"

Aro looked at him, slightly surprised. "Well, of course. That, too."

They walked on, Aro discussing various details of Dacia, but Marcus was finding it difficult to concentrate. He kept imagining a soft hand touching his arm, or the dazzling brightness of her sweet smile. But Didyme held her brother's arm, and her smile was reserved for his cold, practical face.  
Marcus sighed. There was no way out of it, apparently. He would have to give Aro _some _answer within a few days, or Aro would seek it out for himself. But Marcus just didn't have an answer yet. He would need to observe her more, and solidify his already growing suspicions of Didyme's mental powers.

He moved a little closer to the beautiful girl, letting the familiar atmosphere of bliss wash over him. Whatever he told his friend, it was _not_ going to make him happy. Didyme could not have gone further from her brother's intentions.

Marcus looked at her, tracing the waves of light in her curls, and felt a heaviness upon him. There was not an evil bone in her body. She had no comprehension of the future, nor of what they meant to do in Dacia. What would Aro say when he heard of this? He was already casting her strange looks, as if wondering at the influence that was settling over him…

They made it into Sleitev that night, hiding out again in the sewers. Didyme stayed close to Aro, wary of Santiago. Everything was ready, and the city mapped out. All they had to do was wait for the covens…

*** ancient Romania **


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 **

_**Marcus **_

They came at dawn. Caius saw them first. They were only black shadows in the distance, clustering on the surrounding hills, but his sharp eyes caught them quickly. They came no further, which was understandable. That night, we gathered together outside Sleitev, joined this time by several Dacian followers.

Caius turned, nodding to Santiago, who lifted a flame in the air briefly, passing his hand over it. I looked at Aro, who stood beside me. His eyes were alive and greedy with hunger. Only it wasn't the normal thirst.

Didyme cowered at his elbow, her face a perfect contrast to his. I thought of taking her hand, but I was fearful of touching her again. I'd already gone too far before.

"What is it?" she whispered. "Who is coming?"

"Just some friends of ours," Aro replied casually.

Caius smirked. "Or who soon _will _be."

The black mass had reached us, with several of them branching off into the trees—they were suspicious, of course. A tall man walked towards us, his flaxen hair and crisp accent convincing us of his Greek origin.

"Good evening," he said softly. He looked at Caius. "You are the one called Aro?"

Caius shook his head, and all three of us turned instinctively to the right. Aro stepped past me. He cut a striking figure, staring the stranger in the eye calmly. "I am Aro," he clarified. "You've brought reinforcements, I see?" He held out his hand. "I congratulate you."

The Greek vampire stared at him, then warily returned the gesture. I watched Aro's face, knowing what would follow—the narrowing of his dark eyes, the deep-set concentration, and the unnerving smile with which he absorbed someone's secrets.

"Very interesting," he said, pulling away. "Although I _would_ have liked more Assyrians, but you have done admirably, Ceros. Infiltrated the Mycenaean covens, have you?"

The Greek vampire—Ceros—stared at Aro with something of shock mixed with fear. "I—yes…yes, my lord."

Aro smiled, nodding to the trees. "May I see them?" he asked.

Ceros jerked his head, gazing dazedly over his shoulder at the rest of us. I pitied him. Aro's gift tended to unnerve those who weren't accustomed to it, as we were.

_He needn't know about mine, _I thought.

Aro, brushing my hand as we followed him, smiled up at me. "Wise, my friend," he whispered.

The vampires glided towards us, noting with surprise the look on their leader's face. He gestured to them silently, and they knelt to the ground, their cloaks folding in the dust. I recognized the dazed, hungry look of the newborn, scattered among the more solemn, sculpted faces.

Aro looked at me again, and I shook my head. Half of them were strangers to each other; separated by distance and warring civilizations. And what of the newborns? It would take _time_ to organize them, teach them to work as a team.

Aro frowned, as if reading my thoughts. Time was not what we had.

He turned back to the covens, forcing a smile on his face. He walked among them, touching them one by one; calling them by their names as if he'd known them all his life. They gazed up at him, some in dumbstruck devotion, others with a hint of resentment. I could feel the newborns cleave to him immediately, although the others would take more persuasion.

After Aro had finished, he walked to the front of the mass. His long hair molded into the back of his cloak, and a wild light shone from his eyes. "I understand you know why I have called you here," he began softly. "The Dacian leaders, Stefan and Vladimir, have held this territory for over two centuries, extending their influence over half of Europe. They have destroyed covens, purged towns, and wiped out cities to slake their thirst." Aro's eyes narrowed. "They are vicious, unlawful monsters."

A growl of assent rippled through the throng. One vampire uttered a quiet curse.

"But it does not have to be thus," Aro continued. "If we overthrow these monsters—destroy them as they have destroyed us—then there will be no further cause for bloodshed. We can live in peace, and fulfill our desires in peace. There will be a new system of laws, decided by the immortals, and for them alone. My friends…" Aro's eyes were passionate. He indicated the rest of us behind him. "Will you serve us? Will you help us wipe out this scourge?"

I watched Aro in the moonlight, extending his hands towards them, and a swell of loyalty broke within me. He was a natural leader. A prince. He spoke softly, his stance non-aggressive, but there was a quiet intensity in his voice that made even the hardiest stop and listen. The resentment was fading from many faces, and they looked up at Aro as they would a god.

Ceros rose to his feet. "I will serve you."

The Spanish coven rose, dark eyes snapping fiercely. "We will serve you, my lord."

Ten vampires stood in the back. They wore a queer, foreign garb, and their ears were pierced with gold. _The Assyrians?_ I wondered. They nodded their heads, bowing graciously to Aro.

One after another, the covens rose, and pledged themselves to us. Caius and I looked at each other, smiling. It was understood, of course, that we would help Aro lead, but for now, _one _leader was all these immortals needed. One leader, who would rise up and strike the Dacians like a knife in the dark.

Aro smiled. "Perfect," he whispered.

* * *

The covens dispersed, hurrying to sate their hunger before the morning sun broke over the hills. The rest of us followed suit, and I returned in an hour, my body tingling with fresh warmth. Aro and Caius were not back yet, though, so I sat on a rock, gathering my cloak about me.

A strange sound drifted towards me, thinning on the wind.

I lifted my head. A feeble heart beat in the stillness. The sound broke out again, lengthening into a moan. Someone was in pain. Terrible pain.

I rose to my feet, sighing. One of the vampires must not have finished the job. As it was, I could not stand the sound myself.

"Why can't they kill the thing and be done with it?" I muttered to myself. Stones skidded under my feet, and I bent under a hanging bough into a small clearing.

There was a human. But it made no sound. A slight figure knelt beside it, clutching her long hair in her hands, and moaning heartrendingly.

"Didyme!"

She lifted her face, and a single tear trailed down her cheek. Only newborns had them. Wet and struggling, they lasted until the coldness of this life overcame them. And yet… the sight of that one tear hurt me more than a thousand would have done. I bent next to her, brushing the hair from her eyes. "What's wrong?" I whispered.

She pointed at the human, and I once again I heard the faint thumping. "Kill him," she pleaded. "Kill him for me. I cannot do it."

I looked at her wonderingly, but did as she asked. She turned away as I snapped the neck, then turned her liquid gaze on me.

"Thank you," she breathed. A hard sob caught her throat, stopping whatever she'd been about to say. "I know I'm weak," she continued. She spoke so low, no mortal could hear. "I know I'm foolish. I thought—but I was wrong. I only wanted a little. I didn't mean to hurt him." She gazed at me in agony. "I couldn't stop, Marcus. I couldn't stop."

_She said my name. _I bit back my delight and looked at her compassionately. "Of course you couldn't," I said. "You're very young to this life, Didyme. It will grow easier with time."

She shook her head. Sunlight gleamed on her shoulders. "Not killing. Never killing."

I sighed. "It's who we are. You must accept that."

Her eyes were full of pain. "You sound just like him."

"Who?"

"My brother."

_Was this a good thing? _"I didn't mean to be unkind…" I began, but she interrupted.

"I know you mean well. So does he. But why _this?" _She gestured helplessly to herself. "Why this state of being? Are we not damned?"

I looked in her eyes, and saw my own reflection. "I do not know," I whispered.

I watched her gaze at the human again, and wipe her pink mouth with a shudder. She was utterly lost, I realized. She had no place in this evil; this battle between the undead. She was no more immortal than we were mortal. Had Aro not seen this? I thought. Was it is own selfishness that created her? And yet, he was so affectionate… so loving…

Didyme shifted, and I realized I'd moved closer without noticing it. I was just lifting my hand, brave in my urge to comfort her, when a sudden noise drew us apart.

"What's this?" Aro laughed jovially, stepping into the clearing. He gazed at us, then at the dead human. "Much better, Didyme," he praised. "Don't gash the throat so deeply next time, though. You lose half the blood that way."

She shuddered again, and I smiled at her before rising to my feet. "What is the plan now?" I asked Aro.

"Oh, they're all in," he said, grinning. "Even Caius was surprised at how quickly it went. But I am assured of their complete devotion. You may depend on it."

"Certainly, with your gift." I grinned back. "But what of tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow _night,_ my friend. It is all arranged. They have nothing against our strength. First, Ceros will send some of his covens to wipe out the watchtowers, and any other annoyances, and then we shall go through the sewers."

I stared at him. "Through the sewers?"

"Yes," he said darkly. "They will not be expecting that. It is dangerous, of course, but we have the advantage of numbers. They will expect us to sweep through the streets, heading directly for the castle, but it shall not be so." He chuckled to himself. "No, we shall find the Dacian leaders in our own good time."

"We've only a night," I reminded him. "Don't forget that."

"Ah, but what a night!"

I sensed the faint anxiety beside me. "What about Didyme? Will she be joining us?"

Aro glanced at his sister, as if forgetting she was there. "The attack? No, of course not."

I sighed with relief, but couldn't help asking his reasons.

"Because, dear friend, she is too young. _And _she has no training." Aro patted her cheek tenderly. "But don't worry, _piccola. _We shall discover your skills soon enough."

He glanced meaningfully at me, then glided softly from the clearing. I looked down at Didyme, and the confusion in her eyes was a mirror to my own fear.

* * *

**THANK YOU for being so patient with this story. I'm happy to see more people reading it. :) Review! **


	16. AN

**AUTHOR'S NOTE **

**Hey, guys. Petals here. I recently received a reviewer on one of my stories, asking if I was going to finish "Shattered." I'm sorry if I can't send you a PM, dear, but I can't find you on fanfiction, and that particular story is not displaying reviews just yet, since it's so new. I'm glad you asked this, because I've been meaning to post an AN about that story. November is a hard month, with my studying, as is December, so although I may submit to other stories from time to time, I doubt I will be finishing "Shattered" until early 2012. **

**PLEASE DON'T ABANDON ME, THOUGH! Rest assured, I WOULD NOT leave that story hanging, as it's my only Marcus/Didyme pairing so far, and one of my favorites. I WILL submit in the future, but right now I'm up to my ears in work, and it's all I can do to work on other stories. Thank you, readers. **


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